Jettatura
by 0muffin0
Summary: When her boss calls in her newest job, Emma Swan is forced to travel to Storybrooke, a small, secluded town in Maine. What she first sees as the average hunting job turns into more when she realizes she's dealing with a murder case unlike any she's ever known, and a ten year old kid who believes that she's both his mother and "the savior." Eventual Swan Queen.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey guys, _

I haven't been writing much lately, and this concept has been swimming in my head for a while, so I figured... Well, why not. Since the show's been kind of bugging me with it's direction (I knew Swan Queen wasn't going to happen, but...It would have been nice not to have the writers say anything about it, but... Whatever.), I figured I'd have my own take at this. Starting from Season One. This isn't the Storybrooke everyone knows...

**SUMMARY: **_ When her boss calls in her newest job, Emma Swan is forced to travel to Storybrooke, a small, secluded town in Maine. What she first sees as the average hunting job turns into more when she realizes she's dealing with a murder case unlike any she's ever known, and a ten year old kid who believes that she's both his mother and "the savior."_

_DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ONCE UPON A TIME. ANY MISTAKES ARE MINE, AS I HAVE NO EDITOR/BETA READER. I Hope that my mistakes are minimum, but feel free to tell me what I need to fix! _

* * *

The nightmare was back—only different, this time. She is no longer a spectator of her own dreams; no longer a stranger in the corner, waiting for everything to unfold. No, this time, she was a part of it.

She knows how this dream plays out. Knows that she can do nothing to stop it, and that makes her more frustrated than anything. She knows the ending to this fairytale.

She's in a woman's arms, and she knows from experience that she's in an infant's position, staring into chocolate brown eyes that are filled with nothing but sadness. She's crying, her face pale and exhausted, but she still manages to cradle the child with comforting strength, and coos a soft name that she can't quite catch.

She isn't sure when she's torn from the woman's arms, but when she is, one strong, capable arm holds her safely to a man's hard chest. Though she feels secure, she knows what happens. She knows that this man is scared, desperate, and crying.

She isn't sure why, but she is filled with incredible sadness and urgency. She feels like there is a message here, somewhere. Like there is something important for her to gain from all of this, but she is only the child, and nothing in this dream makes sense.

A sword passes too closely by, and there is liquid soaking the white near her. Her eyes fixate on it, and the heavy breathing of the man holding her. He will make it to his goal—why he's going there, she's not sure.

There is something extremely significant about the wooden tree-like cabinet. She isn't sure what it is, but she doesn't want to go inside. Doesn't want to leave. She knows that this man is going to die. That is how the story here ends. With death and destruction. Only, this time, she won't see any of it.

She isn't sure if that comforts her or unsettles her.

She is set on the floor of the space in the tree-cabinet, and the door closes, leaving her in darkness. She starts to cry, starts to wonder what is going to happen to her. She is incapable of taking care of herself, and she struggles to keep her sobs from being too loud.

She feels like something else is in the darkness with her. She's not alone, here.

_**BANG, BANG, BANG.**  
_

She groans and rolls further into the darkness.

**_BANG, BANG, BANG._**

Rolling back over, she cracks open an eye and fumbles with the alarm on the nightstand.

**_BANG, BANG, BANG._**

"Shit," she groaned and flipped the covers off before grabbing a pair of dirty sweatpants off the floor and jumping into them, not bothering to mess with her hair. If someone was this insistent to get to her up at—what time was it? Too early, anyway. They'd deal with her unruly hair and lack of makeup. A part of her was angry at the wake-up call, but she quickly swallowed that down as she fumbled down the last few steps and to the door.

"Goddamn it, isn't it a little early for a house visit?" Emma grumbles, flinging open the door. For a moment, she stands there, and looks at nothing but air. "The hell?"

"Hi," A voice brought her attention downwards, to a small boy that couldn't be older than thirteen.

She groaned slightly, rubbing some sleep sand out of her eyes. "Look, kid, isn't it too early to be selling shit to people?"

"It's one in the afternoon," The boy countered, an eyebrow raising, "and I'm not here to sell anything. My name's Henry. I'm your son."


	2. Chapter 2

"My name's Henry. I'm your son."

There was a pause after that, and Emma opened her mouth to speak, but only managed a strangled start of a sentence.

The kid rolled his eyes. "Ten years ago, did you give up a baby for adoption?"

"...Yeah, but-"

"That was me," Henry smiled before pushing past her into the house. "Do you have anything to drink?"

"Hey, kid, wait-" Emma closed the door and raised a hand, palm up, to the air. "Where are your parents?"

"I have a name. And I just told you, you're my mom," he answered nonchalantly, walking around the counter to the fridge.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Emma sighed out, "Kid..."

Henry pulled out a jug of orange juice and set it on the counter between them, "Where are your cups?"

"Kid, you have problems," Emma stated, gesturing to the air.

Henry only smiled, a slightly sad look in his eyes, "Yep. And you're gonna fix 'em. Starting with the cups?"

"Give me a minute," Emma put a hand to her head, feeling a migraine coming on. She could hear a faint 'okay' from the kitchen as she walked to the bathroom and shut the door forcefully behind her. She stood in the dark for a moment to catch her breath, but turned it on to find the sink and turn it on. The cold water against her face did nothing to soothe her.

Was this kid for real? It was a closed adoption. There was no way he knew where she lived. How did he find her? How did he know? Did his parents know? Oh, God, were they outside her apartment?

"You know, we should probably get going if you want to get back before something bad happens," She heard Henry yell from the other room.

_What?_

She opened the door and walked to the kitchen to see Henry sitting on a stool at the counter, looking up to her with a lopsided grin.

"Your parents don't know where you are, do they?" She accused, refraining from shaking a finger at him.

His grin only faded slightly, "Nope."

She tried to hide the panic in her gut. OhGodOhGodOhGod. "I'm calling the cops."

"I'll tell them you kidnapped me," He threatened, sitting straighter in his stool.

She closed her eyes, "And they'll believe you because I'm your birth mother."

"Yep."

She narrowed her eyes, "You're pretty good, Kid, but there's one thing I'm good at in life. I call it my superpower. I know when someone's lying, and you, Kid? Are."

She turned around to go retrieve her cellphone from her room, where it had been sitting on her nightstand as she slept. She made it all of two steps before she heard his voice again.

"Wait! Please don't call the cops. Please? Come home with me?"

A smirk settled on his face and she sighed. In a defeated tone, she questioned, "Where's home?"

"Storybrooke."

"Story—is that even a place?" She raised an eyebrow. She'd never heard of it before. At least she has a GPS...

"Yep. And you're gonna take me there," He stated, getting off his stool. He put the orange juice away and put the glass in the sink and then looked at Emma expectantly. "Well? You gonna get ready?"

Groaning in frustration, she balled her fists and walked down the hall and get dressed.

This was gonna be a sucky day off.

_**STORYBROOKE-STORYBROOKE-STORYBROOKE-STORYBROOKE-ST ORYBROOKE**_

"What are you writing?" Emma glanced down from the road, seeing Henry scrawling something in his notebook.

He finished writing and stashed his pen into the bindings of the notebook. "I'm logging your superpower, but it's a pretty dumb one. You have to have something cooler."

She laughed a little, "Logging my superpower. Okay. Is that what that notebook's for, Kid? Your notes on me?"

Henry stuffed the notebook back into his backpack that he had brought with him. "No. This one is for people's superpowers."

"People's superpowers?" Emma asked, her eyebrows crushing together.

"Yeah. I don't have a lot, but you can help me," He grinned.

"Oh, kid," She sighed, rubbing her temple with one hand, "you have problems."

"Yep, and you're gonna fix 'em," he pointed to a sign, "Storybrooke's that way."

"O—kay," Emma followed the kid's directions until they hit Storybrooke's town limits, a bit road sign welcoming people in. "How about an address."

As they got in toward buildings, Emma noticed how empty the streets seemed.

"Hold on. Stop here," Henry commanded. He gave Emma all of two seconds before undoing his seatbelt and running out of the car.

"Hey, wait! Kid!" Emma had enough time to put the car in park in the middle of the street and get out to watch Henry run to the nearest building.

"Henry!" A woman answered, opening the door fully.

Emma sighed in frustration and closed the door, hoping that no one would come down it and hit her car. She walked up behind Henry in time to catch a few words.

"...has been worried sick ever since you didn't check in!"

"I know, I-"

"Hey," Emma placed herself in the conversation, causing both of them to look at her.

There was a tense moment of awkwardness before Henry grabbed Emma's hand and turned to the woman who answered the door of the store. "Granny, I want you to meet Emma. She's my mom."

Surprise sprang across the woman's face, and the awkwardness seemed to intensify. "...Oh..."

"Listen, I'm just trying to get him home," Emma smiled tightly to try and ease the tension. "Do you know where he lives or where his parents are right now?"

"Y-yes..." The woman named Granny swallowed, "Keep going straight down this road until you hit the first stop sign. Turn left, and then a ways down the street, there's mifflin street. You'll make a right. It's... The biggest house on the block—The Mayor's mansion. You can't miss it."

"The May-" Emma gawked, looking down at Henry. "You're the Mayor's kid?"

"Maybe?" Henry answered, meekly.

Well, shit. If she was in trouble before, she was no doubt in trouble now. Why did a Mayor adopt him? Why did he have to find her now of all times?

"Okay, Kid. Let's get you home."

When they reached the—without a doubt in Emma's mind—biggest house she'd ever seen, it took all of three seconds for the front door to open.

"Henry!"

A woman darted from the door and had Henry in her arms as soon as possible, and Emma felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She didn't know what it was like to have a child, or to have one go missing, but she could imagine how terrifying it would be. And to get him back home, well.

This was a family moment. And she felt terribly out of place. Digging her hands into her pockets, she watched the scene in front of her.

The woman pulled Henry away enough to look into his eyes, "Where have you been? I've been so worried-"

"I found my real Mom," He answered, pushing from her grip and running into the house.

Standing at eye level, Emma tried not to notice the tears-stained cheeks or the messy hair as the woman turned to her. "You're Henry's birth mother?"

Emma hesitated, rolling on her toes and then back on her heels. "Hi?"

There was a moment where Emma lowered her gaze, trying not to seem standoffish. She wasn't here to make trouble. She just wanted to get the kid home and leave. Her eyes fixated on the other woman's shoes—they looked painful, the heel was so high. But it did make her legs look nice. Really nice.

"How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you've ever tasted?"

Emma was drawn back up to brown eyes, "Actually... Actually, I should probably, you know... Get going. But—Uh—thanks. Thank you."

"Of course..." The woman nodded, straightening out her dress. Emma nearly turned to leave when the brunette began talking again, "I didn't catch your name?"

"Oh," Emma blinked, automatically holding out her hand for a handshake, "Uh, Emma."

"Regina," The woman replied, a fake smile on her face. When she shook Emma's hands, Emma noticed how warm the other woman's hand was.

Emma smiled tightly in return, dropping her hand and taking a few steps back. "Have a good day, Regina."

"I will," Regina promised, watching Emma get into her car and drive off, without leaving her spot.

Emma watched through her rearview mirror as Regina watched the car go, an unsettling feeling in the back of her neck. At least she got the kid home. That was the important part, and now it wasn't her problem.

At least, for now. Right? The kid seemed smart. And he was wearing nice clothes. No bruises.

Of course he didn't have bruises, he was the mayor's kid. A mayor would treat a kid well, right?

Yes. Of course she would. He was fine.

As Emma rounded the last turn to get out of town, she felt her car shake a small bit, breaking her thoughts and causing her to stop the car all together.

This time, she felt it—The whole ground shook beneath her—and then stopped as soon as it started.

"What the hell?" Emma gripped her steering wheel and looked around, trying to squint to see the ground. Was it an Earthquake?

She waited for a few minutes, looking out her passenger's side door, as there was more ground to see that way.

A tapping on her side caused her to jump nearly out of her seat, and she let out a small yelp of surprise when she was faced with a man's face.

He stood slightly, showing the badge on his chest. Emma sighed in relief and leaned down to crank her windows down.

"Ma'am? May I ask what you're doing?" He glanced at her car, parked in the middle of a turn on the street.

"I—There was an earthquake or—Or something," Emma tried to explain. "Didn't you feel it?"

He squinted his eyes, "You're not from here, are you?"

She smiled, "Uhh, no."

"Name's Graham," He reached out his hand and Emma took it. "Are you lost?"

"Emma. And no, I was just... I was just leaving, actually," she explained, gesturing to her car like it explained everything.

"Well," He smiled, showing off a nice set of teeth, "You have a safe trip, then."

She raised an eyebrow as he backed off, "Thanks..."

She rolled her window up and continued down the road, passing the sign that informed her of leaving Storybrooke.

"What a weird town..." She muttered, hitting the gas.


End file.
